


Forbearance

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Twisted Hurt/Non-con Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-28
Updated: 2003-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul's got something to say, but will Jack listen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forbearance

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I like to call "Twisted hurt/non-con comfort." The kind of thing you don't know if you wanna go "Awww, sweet" or "Oh, ouch!" But, you know, make of it what you will.

"Jack, I'm FINE."

"You're freezing cold and soaking wet." Jack wrapped the big flannel throw from the couch around Paul's shoulders, pulling it tight enough to double as a straight jacket.

"Shouldn't I..." The words 'get naked' were there, but better not spoken. Getting naked was the last thing he'd come here to do.

"Warm first, dry later," Jack succinctly ordered, and though Paul could have argued, he suffered being shuffled into the couch.

His jeans were clammy against his skin as he sat down, and they squished unpleasantly on the cushions. He might have been ruining the couch, but Jack didn't care. He disappeared for a second and returned with half the blankets in the house overflowing his arms. The thick comforter from the guest room was warm as only blankets at Jack's house could be. Mid-winter, and you could walk around naked in the bedrooms. He may not know how to get cool during the summer, but he sure did know a thing about warming up.

Jack tucked the blanket around Paul, sinking it deep into the couch cushions, pinning Paul down. The skin on his arms started to tingle and hurt, remembering what it was like to be warm and alive. Paul clenched and unclenched his fists, encouraging blood flow. Jack piled another one on top, wrapping it around Paul's shoulders and close to his neck like a hood. His hands, large and warm, slipped off the fleece, brushing Paul's cheeks. His own skin was so cold, the warm touch burned.

"God, you're like ice," Jack whispered. He leaned forward, settling onto Paul's lap as their foreheads bumped. Paul recoiled from the touch--too much, too close, too warm--but Jack's hands slipped under the blanket-hood and held his head steady. "Need to get you warm." Jack's words were hot breaths against Paul's lips.

"Jack, I--" /didn't come here for this./ But of course he did. He always came back, and it always ended the same way. Slowly, Paul lifted his face those few centimeters and brushed their mouths together.

The shivering started, every nerve coming to life and yelling at Paul that he was too cold, that he'd waited too long in the snow. But Jack was right there, his body covering Paul, his heat leeching through the blankets. Paul opened his mouth and gasped at the wave of heat across his tongue.

The words of denial welled up in his throat. He wanted--needed, HAD TO--say "no," but it stuck, choking him. Jack was so gently stroking his cheeks with his thumbs, his fingers tracing warm lines over his ears... It came out finally as a sob, a hiccup of pain. Paul's eyes burned as Jack brushed soft kisses over the thin skin, his tongue gently lapping away the tears mixed with melted snow.

One last hot, long kiss on his mouth, and then Jack was leaning back, looking down into Paul's face. Paul shivered, trapped, his arms held tight under the blankets. "Why'd you come back, Paul?" His brown eyes looked pained as he studied Paul's face, but his fingers were still gentle and warm against his cheeks, petting.

The shivering was subsiding, settling into an all-over burn as his skin slowly warmed. His soaked clothes slid unpleasantly against his skin as he shifted under the blankets, under Jack's body. He couldn't get free. He couldn't escape those dark eyes. "I--" he croaked. He had to clear his throat, thick from emotion. "I had to come. We... I..."

Jack shifted, settling more comfortable on Paul's body. His weight moved from his knees until he was actually laying on top of Paul's body. He stretched, rubbing against the blankets and striking heat in spots across Paul's chest and thighs.

"We can't do this anymore." The words left his mouth, but there was no emotion behind it. Paul's voice sounded dead to his own ears.

Jack nodded, his eyes gazing at Paul's lips. "So you say." He leaned forward again, rubbing the wet clothes against Paul's chest. His dark gaze filled Paul's vision until he was nearly cross-eyed with it. "You came all this way to tell me that?"

Paul could feel the heat rolling off Jack's body. His skin prickled with it, like sitting too close to a campfire. "We can't. I can't. Please, Jack." His lips were so close, he could taste Jack's every breath.

"Please Jack what?"

He repeated 'I can't' over and over in his head until finally his lips moved--"I can't"--but every movement brushed skin against skin, sparking pleasure and sensation.

"You can't what?" Jack teased, and just the barest touch of his tongue sent a different shiver down Paul's skin.

"Please, Jack, no," but Paul was already moving, his words becoming a muffled tumble of groans against that hot, demanding mouth.

When Jack finally stopped, they were both gasping. Jack moved back enough to peel away the layers of blankets from Paul's chest. They opened easy to his hands, just barely freeing Paul's arms from the soft flannel prison. Paul didn't dare move as Jack began to work on the buttons of his shirt.

The wet fabric clung together, making the small buttons slippery. A chill crept across his damp skin as the first button opened, then the second. By the third he was shivering, his numbed fingers itching to reach out to Jack and pull that hot, dry body against his. The soaked fabric squelched as Jack pulled it out from under his belt and finished the buttons. He laid it open like the blankets, enough to make his chest bare but not enough to free him completely from the flannel cocoon.

Paul's skin rose up in gooseflesh, his nipples so hard it was almost painful. The cold was biting; though he knew the room was several degrees warmer than he was normally used to, his internal  
thermometer was completely off balance. Jack lifted one hand, just letting it rest a half-inch from Paul's skin. Even though his fingers were wet from the shirt, Paul could still feel how hot Jack was. He shamelessly arched his back, stretching up to make contact.

In response, Jack petted him. His hand glided smoothly down his chest, leaving a wide trail of heat behind it. Paul groaned, his jaw hurting as he gritted his teeth. Jack's mouth curled, one corner lifting in a self-pleased smirk. Using both hands, he started at Paul's stomach and rubbed up, spreading out his fingers and his warmth across as much flesh as he could reach.

Paul arched, writhed, and nearly knocked Jack off his lap.

God, it was too easy--always much too easy to give in and just LET him. Jack gave a sexy kind of growl, a low noise that Paul couldn't imagine trying to copy, then he stripped off his t-shirt in a single motion and pressed his bared chest against Paul's. All thought left Paul's head as he nearly screamed with the shock of it. Jack hissed in his ear as he tensed, then settled. "God, you're cold..."

The chill dampness of his chest made every movement that much more tantalizing as Jack writhed against him, hands everywhere. His mouth was a welcome wet heat against his neck. Jack's hands slid down the sides of Paul's chest, short nails turned in to scrape against cool skin. The pain flared up bright and searing, skin coming to hungry life. Paul twisted, first away and then into the rough touch, his hips thrusting up again, his arms fighting the sodden prison of thick blankets and twisted-up shirt.

A low cry escaped his throat, and Jack almost purred into his skin, his rough wet tongue stroking his adam's apple until Paul made the sound again, and again. Jack's fingers slid on the belt as he tried to unbuckle it. He gave a growl, and wiped his hands on the dry portion of the blankets before he tried again. He pulled tight, squeezing the leather around Paul's waist, before finally letting it loosen. The buckle clanked dully as he flicked it open, his fingers instantly prying at the wet denim.

The fabric stuck to Paul's skin, fighting as Jack jerked and twisted it. His hands slipped inside, and even wet his warm skin was so much better than the jeans. Paul moved his hips, almost crawling out of the denim as Jack moved it down his hips. His hands were right there, skittering across his damp skin, wrapping hot and tight around his half-hard erection--perhaps the only place he wasn't frozen. Jack stroked him, wriggling around in the blankets until he was almost buried inside with him. Paul couldn't move his legs at all anymore, but even the unpleasant sensation of the wet denim chafing his skin was lost in the incredible heat and pleasure of Jack's touch.

Jack lifted his head from Paul's neck, mouthing his way up his jaw and across his chin until he was once against sucking on Paul's bottom lip. "You still want me to stop?" Jack asked into his mouth. His hands stilled, his body stopped its tantalizing glide.

Paul made an intelligible noise, unsure even himself what he said.

Jack chuckled, and stroked hard once, twice. "Thought so." His thumb circled the head of Paul's penis, teasing. "Tell me you want it." His other hand slid under Paul's butt, squeezing and rubbing.

Paul's mouth opened under Jack's, but nothing came out. He gasped, his lips trying to capture Jack's, trying to coax him to finish it. Jack moved his face just far enough away to tease. Just enough to make him work for it.

"Tell me."

Paul fell back against the couch, his skin crawling at the feel of his wet shirt cool against his back. "I--"

Jack squeezed his erection again, his hand slipping back further, just grazing that sensitive skin. Jack's eyes were black and heavy-lidded as he looked down at Paul. He leaned close enough to nip at his lips before pulling back out of Paul's reach. "Tell. Me."

Jack stroked him again, squeezing and twisting and moving so slow, so good against him. "Oh! I want this!" Paul moaned out, his words rushed together. "Want...so bad... please..."

"Please, what?"

"Please...Jack!" Paul cut off a scream as Jack pressed two fingers against his hole.

"Please Jack what?" Jack copied his needy moan, rubbing his cheek against Paul's in a quick cat-like move.

"Please...oh, make me come, please please please."

Jack moved his mouth close enough to lick across Paul's lips. "Good boy," he praised, like Paul was some kind of pet. In response, Jack stroked him harder, faster, his fingers giving just enough pressure against his anus to make Paul tense, torn between wanting to move and not wanting to. Paul panted, and then suddenly he was coming, spurting into Jack's hand, body trembling under Jack's body.

Jack sealed his mouth around Paul's, sucking down his cries, stroking him almost painfully as he drew out the sensations, the pleasure that came so fast and hard it hurt. He whimpered as it soon grew too painful, his skin horribly sensitive in the wake of his orgasm. Jack continued stroking him a few more times, teeth nipping at Paul's lips until he turned his face away.

Jack let go long enough to reach up and grab Paul's chin, his fingers sticky against his skin. He  
slowly but forcibly turned Paul's face to kiss him lightly, almost chastely, on the lips. He stroked sticky fingers down his cheek. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" Jack asked. His dark eyes were vulnerable again, soft and warm.

Paul shook his head as much as he could within Jack's grip. "No." The word was rough, dry, almost scraping his throat as he spoke it.

Jack kissed him again, searing the inside of his mouth with his tongue. He pressed one last time with his fingers before he slid his hand from under Paul's ass. The kiss trailed off until Jack was slipping off Paul's lap, coming to stand wobbly on his feet. "C'mon. Let's get to bed. Gotta get you warm."

Paul could feel the chill of the room creep back in, his skin bare and cool without Jack's furnace of a body to warm him. His clothes felt like weights around his arms and legs, held on with rough rope that chafed his skin.

"We can't do this anymore, Jack."

Paul didn't realize he spoke until the words were out, his own voice unmistakable despite how strained and tired he sounded.

Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Fine. Whatever. The roads won't be clear until morning. Sleep on the couch if you want." He adjusted his clothes, rubbing against the prominent bulge in his pants. "Or, you know, there's a nice, soft, warm bed just waiting for you." His eyes burned hot with desire.

Paul could feel the wetness that had soaked through the cushions beneath him. Even as he gathered the helpless tangle of blankets, he could feel the shivers begin to creep into his muscles.

Jack waited a moment longer, then shrugged again. "Your choice." He turned around and walked up the stairs. Distantly, Paul heard the door click shut.

He tried to keep his resolve. Paul shuffled out of his soaked jeans and shirt and tried to cuddle up into the dry part of the couch. The blankets were wet in patches, and it was hard to find just the dry spots to huddle under. Somewhere under the house, the heater clicked on with a shuddery wheeze. Even as he could feel the warm breath of the heated air breeze past his face, Paul knew it was just a small part of the furnace-heat in Jack's bedroom. He always kept it so warm in there, you could sleep naked under the sheets.

Slowly, Paul slipped out from under the blankets. His bare feet sank into the carpet; his toes dug in, searching out that small bit of warmth the dry fibers could give them. He wrapped his arms around his bare chest and padded his way down the hall and to the stairs. He tried not to make any noise, but when he opened the door, Jack's head lifted off the pillow. Dark eyes glittered in the shadows.

Wordlessly, Jack lifted the blankets, shifting back into the warm cave they created.

Paul lingered at the door, feeling the coolness of the hallway on his back, the flush of warm air from the bedroom vents against his chest. His foot shuffled forward just one step, and that was all it took for his resolve to completely disintegrate. In a rush he was across the room and burrowing into the blankets, pressing his face into Jack's neck as Jack's arms and blankets wrapped around him.

"I gotcha, Paul," Jack said softly, kissing the side of his head.

Paul took in a shuddering breath and just held on tighter. He was never going to be able to let go.

Never.

THE END.


End file.
